Pro Populo Mori
by Animako
Summary: Giftfic for BloodyChaosDragonKnight Spoilers for The World That Never Was Axel muses on Sora and Roxas, their similarities, and on the nature of completion.


spoilers for the World that Never WasGift-fic for BloodyChaosDragonKnight. Axel muses on Sora and Roxas.

To BCDK: Hope you enjoy, it's introspection! I couldn't really decide what to write about. Also, the delay in writing this was because when you told me KH, I was still at the starting bit with Roxas in the game. It's an awesome game :3

The title is a well-known latin quote from Horace's _Odes_ (I think) - _dulce et decorum est, pro patria mori_; It is good and fitting to die for one's fatherland. Pretty well known phrase Though _dulce_ actually means more like sweet than right. Anyway, you'd translate '_pro populo mori_' as 'to die for the people'. I hope that's not too spoilerific for any passing classicist who hasn't completed the game.

* * *

It was hard to explain to the boy who was not Roxas how he felt. Pain at the similarities and differences that plagued him, joy that someone could be all the best of his friend. Sorrow that Roxas had never had the chance to meet his other self.

The Keyblade wielder had some idea of what Roxas was, but no idea of what he himself was to Roxas. Light, life. Roxas had been a dirtied saint among sinners in the Organisation, his possession of the Keyblade as a sign that he was marked out. He was Sora and yet wasn't, and the knowledge that he was the shell of the saviour-child, yet missing something vital, taunted him.

He'd spoken to Axel about it: surreal musings (induced by despair, often catalysed by alcohol), that he was a fallen angel and he looked down and saw his reflection rising above him, that a boy with his face and none of his faults lived in joy in his dreams. Nobodies were flawed by definition, but generally through their own making. Roxas was the only one who was troubled by the knowledge that his past walked and shaped everyone's present, and he found the burden heavy to bear.

* * *

He knew he couldn't explain it to the boy - who had all the mindset of a preteen, hardly tempered by the experiences he'd gone through - but Sora was who his friend should have been. No-one whole could understand what it meant to be a Nobody, not emotionally. No-one should understand. Only Nobody could, by definition.

So it was: the mixture of feelings – those negative feelings available to a Nobody – that went into Roxas's decision to let go the world remain unknown. Axel himself didn't know – Sora was Roxas, Roxas was Sora, nevertheless, was what he felt for Roxas echoed in this new rapport with Sora?

It was hardly rational, his decision to devote himself to the boy with the Keyblade. But at the same time there was nothing more rational than to sacrifice a being with no heart to save a boy so full of love. He was an angel, exactly as Roxas had said; he had dedicated his self to others, names that meant nothing to Axel but plainly everything to him.

And being with Sora, seeing that for all his childlike mannerisms he fought with a practised form and a determination that belied his age, convinced Axel how important the quest for Riku and Kairi was. The regret growing in the place where his heart should have been was for Kairi, for his kidnapping of her and for the fact that they were two happy people, who so obviously should be happy together. He didn't know her, didn't particularly feel anything for her, but seeing her effect on Sora couldn't help but induce the emotion of guilt - one that he'd thought he'd lost with his conscience and heart. (Riku needed no such pity, he had willpower enough to make his own way back to his rescuer.)

And so, as he went to his death with willing, he made amends. He felt it'd kinda be more stylish to die in peace, or at least dignity, but Sora ran to him, asking questions and not wanting to hear the answers. And the sheer concern in the kid's face ... that brought him a solace that no amount of style could have. It was fitting.

* * *

His senses played tricks on him, while he felt himself break down. The pain in his chest seemed not to be because it was empty of energy, but because (with those beautiful blue eyes so pained) the void there had been filled. 


End file.
